


Until we meet again

by tragicalanne



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Adorable, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Crying, Cute, Declarations Of Love, Doctor Gilbert Blythe, Dorks in Love, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Forbidden Love, Forehead Touching, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gilbert Blythe has Heart Eyes, Gilbert Blythe in Love, Hugs, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, One Shot, Protective Gilbert Blythe, Sad, Sweet, Tenderness, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26852755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragicalanne/pseuds/tragicalanne
Summary: It was in the middle of his internship that Gilbert received the news. With his usual straightforwardness and coldness, his main professor, Doctor Frances, came into his class one morning with an envelope into his hands.“Class, I’m sorry to interrupt your lesson, but I have some important pieces of information. As you may know, the conflicts at the border of Gebson Bay, in the Easter part of Canada, are getting worse, and there is a huge lack of paramedics. The University of Toronto has been demanded to send its best trainees, to help the paramedics who are already there” he said, his voice not changing its tone once. He then started listing the names of the students who had been chosen, and when Gilbert heard his last name his heart dropped. In that very moment, he didn’t think of the risk he would have had to face, of the possibilities of not making it, of the idea of getting hurt.He thought about Anne.For a split of a second, a flash of light, he imagined her face as he told her he had to go away for God knew how long. He saw her usual sparkly eyes losing their light, and her gentle smile dropping. He didn’t want to be the source of her pain, not when she had always been the source of his life.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	Until we meet again

It was a cloudy evening when he knocked at her door, clenching his fists as he tried to swallow down the knot which had threatened to grow into his throat for the past weeks. He had tried to tell her, he _had wanted_ to get it off his chest and let her know the truth, so that they could process it together. But then she welcomed him with her soft smile, and her dimples which seemed to hide the source of his happiness, and that messy hair which had the shade of a warm fire, and those big blue eyes he had secretly adored from the moment they met his, sad and desperate for something to hold onto.

And he lost his courage, his words, surrounded by her voice as she told him all about her classes at Queen’s, her hands moving frantically as she tried to express her amaze for everything she was learning and her boredom when it came to geometry, and geometry only. Then, she asked him to tell her about his medical studies, fascinated by his knowledge, and he had to put on the umpteenth smile and promise to himself he would have told her the following time. And he started explaining all the new discoveries he had been studying in Toronto, faking an enthusiasm which – in other circumstances – would have been sincere and true. But every day, every second, every weekend he visited her, the burden on his chest grew more and more, while the time left to spent with her got shorter.

He had to tell his best friend, his Anne, that he had to leave her.

Gilbert had been studying at the University of Toronto for three years, and anyone who knew him was well aware of the effort he was putting into it, with his late nights sessions of notes learning and schemes to create. He was one of the students with the highest grades in his course, and he even had the chance to begin an internship with Dr Leah LeClaire, a famous Canadian immunologist who chose the best five students each year and allowed them to have some practice in laboratories. Gilbert had been on cloud nine when he found out he had been chosen, and all his friends were just as eager as he was. Not to mention Anne had made him a cake by herself – it turned out quite delicious this time, with actual vanilla in it – to celebrate his accomplishment.

It was in the middle of his internship that he received the news. With his usual straightforwardness and coldness, his main professor, Doctor Frances, came into his class one morning with an envelope into his hands, as he fixed the small glasses on his nose.

“Class A, I’m sorry to interrupt your lesson, but I have some important pieces of information you need to be aware of. As you may know, the conflicts at the border of Gebson Bay, in the Easter part of Canada, are getting worse everyday, and there is a huge lack of paramedics, since the government seems to be focused on… other problems at the moment. I’m here to inform you that the University of Toronto has been demanded to send its best trainees near Gebson Bay, to help the paramedics who are already there” he said, his voice not changing its tone once. He then started listing the names of the students who had been chosen, and when Gilbert heard his last name his heart dropped. In that very moment, he didn’t think of the risk he would have had to face, of the possibilities of not making it, of the idea of getting hurt.

He thought about Anne.

For a split of a second, a flash of light, he imagined her face as he told her he had to go away for God knew how long. He saw her usual sparkly eyes losing their light, and her gentle smile dropping. He didn’t want to be the source of her pain, not when she had been the source of his life.

From an outer point of view, it was almost impossible to think Anne and Gilbert weren’t dating. When they were around each other, there was a constant cloud of laughters, spelling competitions, discussions about the universe and the myths behind the names of each constellation, and a lot of stolen glances and chuckles. Oh, well, there were also tons of arguments regarding the most stupid circumstances – for instance, when Gilbert accidentally teared one of _Jane Eyre_ ’s pages apart, Anne literally didn’t speak to him for a whole week, and forgave him only when he came back the following weekend with the same page handwritten by him in the most elegant calligraphy with a lucid black ink and a lovely flower drawn in the corner of the paper sheet. Or when they had argued for three hours and a half as they tried to remember the words they had spelled during their first competition during Mr Philips’ class, and Gilbert claimed he had _voluntarily_ made a mistake to let Anne win, while she got angry at him, accusing him of being the greatest liar on Earth and not admitting she had won simply because she had been the best of them that time – _as many other times_ , she added then.

It was a friendship made of spice and sugar, but little did they knew they could hardly live without each other. Anyone who knew them still couldn’t understand how could two people be so unaware of their feelings towards each other, but when his friend Fred asked him why he never revealed his feelings to Anne, Gilbert simply shook his head, saying that he was afraid she didn’t want to have a relationship in that moment, and he certainly didn’t want to lose her as a friend, not when she had brightened his days for so long. What he didn’t know, though, was that Anne had been fighting with her own mind in order to grow the courage to make the first step and ask him if he _maybe, perhaps, possibly_ thought there could be a _deeper_ sort of friendship between them.

When he had told her he would have studied in Toronto, she had been quite sad not to have him by her side at Queen’s, but she knew it was what he deserved and what was best for his career, and she had just made him promise to visit her each time he could – and she would have done the same. So he came back to Charlottetown more or less every weekend, or every other weekend when he was in the exams session, and they spent time together as they used to do, hiding the pang they felt in their hearts when they had to say goodbye again. Nonetheless, this come-and-go had been their constant for the past three years, and honestly they wouldn’t have changed it for anything in the world. They wouldn’t have traded the moments they had lived together for the brightest diamond. He had been next to her when Matthew had passed away, just one year after she had left Green Gables, and she had held onto him as he could be the last drop of water in a deserted land of sand; she had supported him in his darkest days, when he believed he would have never become the person he wanted to be, reminding him of his amazing qualities and the admiration she had for him – making him want to drop everything right there and kiss her lips with the most intense delicacy she deserved. She had rescued him from his own thoughts, just as he did with hers. Gilbert could easily picture himself spending his whole existence watching Anne Shirley-Cuthbert as she fought her way through the world, a halo of angelic flames dancing around her, carrying her clever and passionate self along the paths of life, reaching the happiness and success she deserved just for being herself, even if it meant not seeing himself in that picture.

And that seemed to be the closest possibility now, as on the cloudy evening of December 16th he knocked at the door of Green Gables. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, blood going down at his feet and making him almost dizzy. As he thought of the right words to say, he heard a chuckle coming from inside the house, followed by the most astonishing sight he could wish for.

Anne’s cheeks were coloured with the most graceful shade of strawberries, her irids looking bluer than usual, and the prettiest smile on her face. When she opened the door, he almost forgot about everything he had to tell her, everything that would have happened. She circled him with her arms, almost making him lose his balance as she laughed.

“We just beat the record. Three weeks without seeing each other before Christmas holidays. You’re really a mess without me, aren’t you?” she asked jokingly, but when he tightened his grip around her, closing his eyes as his face got lost in the thickness of her loose hair – shorter now, ending in the middle of her back – her laughter faded. “Gil, is everything okay?”

She gently released herself from the hug, looking for his eyes. When she noticed there wasn’t the slightest trace of joy in his face, her mind started displaying the worst scenarios she could imagine. Was someone sick? Had he failed his exams? Was _he_ sick?

“I…Uhm, is there anyone else inside?” he asked, almost unable to breathe.

Anne raised her eyebrows, walking inside the house as he followed her.

“Marilla is at Rachel’s, while Jerry has left more or less one hour ago. I was thinking of the recipes I could prepare for Christmas dinner…I wanted to make everyone’s favourite meal, but I’m not sure I’ll be able too. I’ll certainly make your chocolate cake, though, don’t worry” she quickly said, as they climbed the stairs and reached her room. There was a bunch of scattered notes on her bed, along with a book and a photograph. “Oh, right, I forgot!” Anne said, taking the black and white photograph into her hands and showing it to Gilbert.

“Remember last Christmas? Diana took this [photo](https://pin.it/6If1PK8) of us while we both weren’t aware, but she soon forgot to give it to me. She found it in one of her books last week, and she had made two copies for the two of us. So you can keep this one, to think of me even when you’re swimming in those tons of volumes you study. I have mine too” Anne concluded, handing the photograph to Gilbert and waiting for a smile, which never came. He took the photo, barely looking at it, as he gulped pain down and looked at her.

“Anne, I won’t be joining for Christmas this year” he said in a low voice. Anne narrowed her brows, tilting her head with a questioning expression on her face.

“What do you mean you won’t be joining? Have you been invited somewhere in Toronto?”

He shaked his head, but she interrupted him before he could speak again.

“Is someone sick? Or are you busy with your internship? We could organise a second dinner for when you are able to come, it’s sad to celebrate Christmas without _all_ of us, it wouldn’t be the same without you. We’ve never celebrated without you-”

“Anne-”

“-and I certainly couldn’t imagine not having-”

“Anne, will you let me speak?!” he suddenly exclaimed, making her step back a little. As soon as he saw the hurt flash of confusion in her eyes, he bit his tongue for his inability to have a better hold on himself and be rational. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that” he murmured, closing his eyes and scratching his head, as moving his hands randomly could help him focus.

“Alright, you’re worrying me for real now. What’s wrong, Gil?” she asked, her voice sounding so innocent and so perfectly _Anne-ish_ that he could swear he wanted to cry right there because she didn’t deserve to feel pain. He stared at her for a couple of seconds, before gently taking her hands in his, his thumb caressing her soft skin, as he led the two of them to sit on the edge of her bed. He took a last intake of breath, before letting out the following words like venom threatening to burn his insides.

“Anne. I won’t be joining because I’ve been called as a paramedic to go to Gebson Bay, were the conflicts are taking place. There is a lack of treatments and of people willing to help, and the number of injured people is too high” he said, slowly and steadily, while his heart shaked. Anne’s face became a colourless painting, her glassy eyes enhancing his pain more than anything. Her whole body turned to stone, and her fingers became colder than usual. He waited for her to say something, but when she let out a choked _what_ he couldn’t hold the tears threatening to fall anymore.

“I don’t know for how long I’ll have to stay there, I just know there’s nothing I can do to avoid it. People are dying and I need to help” he added, trying to be of solace for himself too.

Anne felt like the she had just been stabbed with the sharpest, most painful, knife. She could feel her own bile in her throat, as tears dropped freely on her cheeks, ending up on her chin and on her long green skirt. The knot in her throat made it impossible to breath properly as she tried to let out the few words she could manage to say, her voice coming out chocked and hoarse.

“Just a week ago a whole tent where paramedics worked has been destroyed, Gilbert, how- what if you-” she let out, her mouth parted in disbelief. She looked around herself, slowly coming to the realization, trying to find a solution as her mind raced restlessly. She released her hands from his with a sudden movement, placing them on her lap, where they gripped onto the fabric of her skirt as it could save her. “When did you find out?” she asked then, and that was when Gilbert knew he would have lost her forever.

“One month ago.”

Three words were enough for her heart to break irreversibly.

“You’re not being serious, aren’t you?” she asked, turning to him with a jerk, while more tears raced down her skin in the saddest motion.

“I tried to tell you, but-” he tried to say, but she stopped him, getting up in a sudden movement, clenching her fist as her nails digged deeply in the palm of her hands.

“ _That’s the greatest lie you’ve ever said, Gilbert!_ One month ago! We could have spent a whole month together, I would have dropped everything and-and come to Toronto to be with you! And now we have…what? _Days_ , before you leave? Or _hours_?” Anne blurted out, fully crying as she stood in front of him, building a strength which was clearly betrayed by her voice and tears.

“I’m leaving on Sunday” he replied, unable to even look at her.

“The day after tomorrow. Two days before you leave for I don’t know where and for I don’t know how long. This…Gilbert, this is unacceptable, I can’t- I don’t, I don’t even know what to say” Anne said, turning her back to him to hide her face. She couldn’t hold back her pain, she couldn’t pretend she was okay. She was _furious_ , anger filling up her stomach and making it burn terribly. She wanted to yell at him, blame him for being so selfish and not thinking of how _she_ could have reacted; she wanted to scream at him and blame him for her tears. But as she sobbed uncontrollably, her chest moving up and down as she tried to calm down pointlessly, all she could think about was the fact that the boy she loved was leaving and she didn’t want him to remember her like that. She didn’t want her last memory of him, maybe, to be _that_ one. She wiped away her tears with the hem of her sleeves, but they kept falling like raindrops from a heavy cloud of pain. She could hear he was crying too, briefly sniffing now and then. He had always cried more silently then her, and he often let the sky cry for him when he couldn’t release his pain from his chest. This time, though, seeing Anne crying made his heart twist around himself and he couldn’t help tears from falling down.

Anne couldn’t turn to him, she truly couldn’t. She wanted a proper goodbye, but she didn’t want him to leave, despite her anger and desperation. When she heared her bed squeaking slightly and his steps on the wood of the floor, she thought he was leaving, unable to say anything to her, to look at her in the eyes for one last time. But when she felt his arms around her waist and his forehead leaning against the crook of her neck, she released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. She let her body do what it felt right, and she turned to him, not releasing herself from the embrace. When she looked at him, she knew he was hurting too, and she unconsciously forgave him, because God only knew how much he had to go through as well. Her forehead leaned against his, as her hands brushed the skin of his neck; her thumb moved up and down on his clenched jaw, making it relax a bit.

“Anne, I swear I-”

“I know” she told him, still crying. “I’m sorry, Gil. I’m _so_ sorry.”

He wanted to wipe away her tears and tell her he would have come back soon, but he knew it wasn’t the truth. He had no idea of what his faith held for him, he just knew he had to face it and see it from himself. He wanted to tell Anne how much he would have missed her, how bright his memory of her would have been in his mind, how much he loved her. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find hers still closed, wet eyelids like curtains. He gently brushed his nose against hers, as to call her softly, bringing her along with him in a quiet paradise of hopes and peace.

She opened her eyes too, only to close them once again as soon as he leaned in to kiss her lips, first slowly and then so intensely she could swear she was floating. She had imagined that moment so many times in the past months, even years, picturing the two of them under misteltoe during Christmas, or under the rain, or in the middle of a flower field after a long walk during summer. She certainly hadn’t imagined it would happen on a cold winter evening, two days before he left her. But she held onto the feeling of his wet lips against hers, as their tongues danced a waltz of farewells and despair, and she tightened her grip around him, bringing him closer and closer as they could liquefy together and disappear in a puddle of melted gold. He could taste her salty tears mixing up with his, and he tightened his embrace around her, trying to glue her to his heart and memory for days, weeks and years to come.

When they parted, reluctantly, she placed her hands on his chest, memorizing his heartbeat and synchronizing hers with it, so that she could pretend she had a part of him with her forever. Then, she kissed the spot where her hand laid, printing her lips on his heart like an undeniable mark of love. He placed a long kiss on her forehead, as a far thunder manifested its presence in a loud noise, as if the world outside the window was exploding. Honestly, they couldn’t care less.

“Gil” Anne murmured, breaking the loudest silence in the room, “Will you write to me? Whenever you can, to let me know you are safe. It should be allowed, right?” she asked, with pleading and desperate eyes, as if it was the last hope she could hold onto.

“I think it is. Of course I will, whenever I have the opportunity. It will be as if I never left, you’ll see” he replied, trying to convince himself in the first place.

“I hardly think so” Anne murmured, before chuckling sadly. “If I had known you had to leave to Gebson Bay for me to grow enough courage to declare myself, I would have told you how I felt about you way sooner” she said, with a sad closed-lip smile on her face. Gilbert smiled too, looking down at her with eyes full of adoration.

“If I had known I had a chance with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, I would have told her I loved her years and years ago” he said back, making her blush. “I would have had to face Marilla’s suspicious glance sooner too though, so I’m not sure how great it would have been” he added, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Anne laughed, shaking her head and looking down, before her bright laughter became a chocked sob and her lower lip started trembling.

“Oh, Anne…” he whispered, hugging her as if they were just one. She hid her face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of clean fabric and cinnamon he always carried with him, and wishing her whole room could hold that comforting perfume endlessly, embracing her as she cried in her bed, imagining it could be his arms.

“ _Anne, I’m home!_ ” Marilla’s voice interrupted from downstairs, as they heard the door closing.

They closed their eyes at the same time, stepping back from each other but still holding their hands.

“I should let Marilla know too, and I need to start packing too” Gilbert reluctantly said, those necessary words coming out forcefully, against his own will. Anne nodded.

“Yes, right, of course. I’ll come by tomorrow then. And I’ll be there on Sunday, when you…when you leave, to say goodbye” she replied, in a choked voice. She held back her tears this time, looking up at him once again and quickly pecking his lips. In a miserable smile, Gilbert brushed his hand on her cheek, before walking out the door, their fingers being the last part of them to let go of each other.

Anne stared at the wall of her bedroom for what felt like hours, not feeling anything if not an unspeakable darkness around her heart. It was only when she heard the main door closing again and Marilla’s steps walking towards her room, her grey eyes staring at her daughter with compassion, that Anne bursted out crying again, slowly collapsing to the floor as Marilla held her tightly, whispering soothing words to her. Nothing was enough.

The following day was a continuous flow of events, and she barely had time to collect her thoughts. She did as promised: she visited Gilbert’s house, saying hi to Sebastian and baby Delphine, the only joyful presence in the house, unaware of where her uncle _Gibbelt_ was going. Anne helped him pack his clothes and all the necessary stuff he could need, including _every single_ bottle of medicine he had in his house, slowing down only when Gilbert reminded her of the fact that Bash might have needed those too. They both tried to be rational and keep themselves busy with every single detail, and Anne even volunteered to make dinner for the Blythe-Lacroix family, even though each spoonful of soup tasted like the most bitter syrup. She soon left Gilbert to enjoy his last evening with his family, the burden pressing on her chest becoming heavier just by seeing the door of his house closing behind her.

When she woke up early the next morning, feeling dizzy for the lack of sleep, she didn’t say a word to Marilla, nor to anyone else. They reached the train station soon, since they couldn’t accompany him to the harbour too. Other boys were there, kissing their intended ones goodbye, hugging their parents or simply staring at the metallic monster in front of them, as if it was a snake leading them directly to hell. Gilbert stood there, paler than ever but faking a smile on his face, as he joked with Moody to keep himself up. His friend, along with Ruby and Diana, had been informed the previous day and they decided to come to the station as well, to support both Gilbert and Anne, not aware of the mutual feelings between their friends, but certainly well aware of how much they cared about each other.

When the train bell rang, announcing his departure in a few minutes, she felt like she was disappearing in a dark spiral of an unknown being, dragging her down and down. She looked at Gilbert, as he hugged Bash tightly, patting his back and promising to be back soon, his glassy eyes betraying his apparent confidence. He hugged Moody, Diana and Ruby too, before ending up in front of Anne.

“So” he said, swallowing down his own saliva as if it was the thickest knot to gulp, “I promise I’ll write to you. Hopefully each week” he said.

“Yes, great, thanks” Anne replied, mentally kicking herself for her inability to pronounce a proper goodbye for once. Knowing she would have been better with actions, she stepped close to him on her tiptoes, circling him with her arms like she had done only two days before. He replied with the same intensity, almost lifting her from the floor as he did so.

“There won’t be a day, Anne, in which I won’t think of you. You’ll be in my heart each second, each day, and I hope you’ll hang onto the hope that I’ll come back. I hope you’ll still be the best student in your class, and that you’ll laugh with you friends and celebrate Christmas with your family. I don’t want you to worry about me, alright? I want you to enjoy life as much as you can, until we meet again” he whispered in her ear. He could feel her shaking into his arms, and he wanted to take her pain and make her smile brightly again.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Heal people, but don’t play the hero. I want you back to me, Gil, as selfish as it can sound” Anne murmured for only him to hear, and he smiled at her, bringing her hands to his lips and placing a kiss there, blessing the heavens for giving him a life with Anne Shirley-Cuthbert in it.

As he started walking towards the train, almost ready to climb in, she felt the strongest force pushing her to step towards him again, the tears in her eyes making it hard to look at his figure clearly.

“Gilbert!” she cried, and when he turned to her for the last time he knew exactly what to do.

She kissed him with all the drops of strength which were left inside her, pouring her whole life into it, her hands between his hair and teardrops streaming down her face. The last bell rang, and they quickly parted.

“I love you” she said, and that’s all he needed to hear to know that he would have done _anything_ to come back to her, sooner or later.

“I love you back. I infinitely do” he said back, jumping on the train just as it started, Anne’s face being the last image he saw before he couldn’t distinguish his loved ones’ figures anymore.

Eight months and fourteen days. 270 days of agony.

Some of Anne’s Queen’s coursemates had laughed when they had found out she was so devastated just because a friend had left for a while.

“My father works in a bank in Ireland, and I barely see him once a year. Do you see me complaining, Anne? Come on, erase that seriousness from your face and join us for a walk downtown this afternoon” Jessica Prensley had told her after Christmas holidays, when Anne went back to Queen’s. She barely listened to what the girl had told her, knowing that it was worthless to waist oxygen explaining things to someone so superficial as Jessica was. Diana was the one to get up from her chair with the most furious expression on her face, and Anne was so grateful to have her, she _incredibly_ was, but she could hardly distinguish her bosom friend yelling that _Gilbert’s whole life is at risk, he’s not sitting comfortably in the soft sofa_ _of some stupid bank!_ It was like she was constantly underwater, everything moving in a continuous slow motion around her, and she didn’t even try to get out of the deep hole in which she had fallen. She still kept informed of how the conflict was developing at Gebson Bay though, her hands shaking each time she opened the newspaper, fearing to see his name on the list of the losses of the week. She kept carrying on day by day, not forgetting her duties and studies, yet she felt like she was being dragged by inertia, her body taking her soul along with itself and trying to nourish it, but even if her friends and family constantly checked on her health and physical wellbeing – knowing how involved she got in her emotion, often not thinking about her own body – still her soul was surrounded by the most suffocating smoke of fear.

The first time she received a letter, though, one month after his departure, she felt like a child in front of the most awaited gift. Mrs Blackmore directly brought it to her one morning before the beginning of the classes, politely asking her to wait until the end of them to read it. It felt like an excruciating amount of time to Anne, who frenetically moved her legs and feet as it could help time to run more quickly. It was like each minute that passed, a letter of his written words could fade away, until none were left for her to read, and this thought made her even more desperate for those _oh so long_ hours to reach the comforting amber light of the afternoon. She was the first one to get out of her last class, running towards her room and closing the door behind her, knowing that her beloved Diana would have certainly waited to come in. Her eager fingers quickly opened the envelope, and she was sure she would have bursted out crying as soon as she read the first, most innocent words written in his calligraphy.

_Dear Anne,_

_I hope this letter finds you well, and healthy. I don’t have much time to write, so I’ll be quick and direct. Things are not going greatly so far; the number of injured people in higher than I expected, and I’ve been asked to proceed with certain medical quick surgeries which I’ve never even been showed. More students from other Canadian universities are here too, and that’s the only thing that comforts me, honestly. I am safe so far, though, I promise. Since this can’t even be considered a love letter for its brevity, can we just pretend it’s one of those stupid posts on the take-notice board we had in school years ago in Avonlea? I quite regret not writing something for you on it, you know?_

_So… Gilbert Blythe thinks Anne Shirley-Cuthbert is the most astonishing girl on Earth. Is it good?_

_Honestly though, I miss you painfully. I can’t wait to see you, making up plans in my mind keeps me from panicking sometimes, you know? I may or not may have learned this from a certain redhead of my knowledge…_

_I need to go, now. Coming back to you, my Anne._

_With love,_

_Gil_

_P.S.: I had told you I’d be back before you could spell ‘engagement’. The spelling is taking a bit longer, isn’t it? But we’ll reach the end soon._

Needless to say Diana knocked at her bedroom’s door twenty minutes later, only to find her best friend sitting on the floor against the wall, eyes staring blankly in front of herself and traces of dry tears on her cheeks. When Anne saw her, she smiled a little, as to express her gratitude for her friendship and to let her know she was fine. She had to be. Diana sat next to her, allowing Anne’s head to lean against her shoulder, holding her hand and wishing she could take a bit of her pain, at least the tiniest part of it.

Gilbert’s letter kept coming more or less each fifteen days, sometimes a bit more, but for Anne they were like lymph keeping her sane, like a stream of life running through her veins and allowing her be strong and to keep the promise of going on. Little did she know a part of her was still left at that cold day of December, when she last saw him.

His letters were always filled with sincerity, never lying about his conditions, never sugarcoating the truth of facts; he knew Anne wasn’t the one to believe those fake statements. He often wrote about the dark thoughts which claimed their place in his mind, about the nausea he felt being surrounded by the smell of blood each day, about the claustrophobia he felt when he had to stay under a tent for hours and hours, without seeing the sky even for _days_ , sometimes. But he also told her about the people he got to know, his success in healing some major injuries, and about the awful food he was eating.

_Trust me, Anne, my porridge is at the level of Mary’s heavenly chocolate cake compared to this stuff._

His letter were always brief, but full of everything which had to be said. He concluded each of them with a different thought for her, with a different goodbye, a different hope which was a solace for him as well.

_I’m coming back, I promise I am, one day…_

_With the hope of seeing you in my dreams – highly probable – and of seeing you with my eyes soon…_

_We must wait a little longer, my love…_

_The nostalgia I feel when I think about you is excruciating, but it keeps me going…_

Anne read each letter at least ten times when they arrived, trying to get as many pieces of information as she could about how he was. The newspapers were barely focusing on the conflicts in the bay, and she hardly knew anything about the number of victims and injured people. Living each day trying to keep the darkest thoughts away was getting harder and harden, even for someone like Anne, who cherished life more than anything, and who constantly tried to be grateful for the life she had. Nonetheless, she sometimes found herself spiraling, and one thought led to another, until she physically had to scream her whole voice out of her lungs so that her mind could rest in quietness. Diana was constantly by her side, but she often didn’t know what to tell her. She couldn’t even imagine the pain of having a loved one risking their life every minute and not knowing anything about them, if not a couple of times each month. So she usually tried to stay positive for her, taking her outside and sleeping next to her when it all became too much to handle. The other girls were worried too: even Josie Pye stopped making comments regarding anything Gilbert or Anne related. She secretely admired the redheaded young woman who she had despised for so much time before: she admired her resilience, the fact that she was still there handling daily challenges when the boy she loved was far away, but most of all she admired her pure heart. Because Anne’s heart was a rare kind: it had been thrown away, stepped on callously, ignored, yet it was still as pure and full as a child’s one. The amount of love she had to give was insane, despite having met so many people unwilling to give it to _her_ – Josie knew she had been one of those people, too – and seeing her staying silent, when everyone expected her usual enthusiasm and excitement to explode, was too odd for Josie as well.

But Anne went on. Of course she did. She was never one to stop carrying on, sometimes she just needed a little push. And for six months, Gilbert was her incentive, her cause and her aim. He was all around her everyday, with his letters and with his thoughts, and she knew it, she could feel it, and she hoped he felt it too. She desperately hoped he knew she hadn’t forgotten about him, her best friend, her main adversary, the source of her laughter and the easiest trigger to her anger.

The love of her life.

So she filled the letters she sent back to him with so many words – it was her way of pouring all her love for him, but she also hoped they could entertain him when he felt alone or scared. She had always been good with words, so she spent hours behind them, carefully choosing everything she wanted him to know, trying to not focus on the pain she was feeling – it would have just made him feel worse – but still being undeniably his Anne. They unconsciously kept each other alive even without knowing it. For five whole months.

He didn’t come back after five months, though. _She_ stopped receiving his letters after five months.

The first time she didn’t receive anything for three weeks, and she thought it was not unusual, it had already happened a couple of times. Then, the weeks became five, then seven, and she was going insane. How could it possibly be that nothing had arrived?

She wrote tons of letters, daily, but no response ever came. It was June back then, and as the summer holidays begun, she had no idea of what had to be celebrated about it. She hated the breeze and the sun and people laughing because there was nothing to be joyful about. People were _dying_ and Gilbert was not there with her and her summer was an hopeless, eternal, cold winter.

Marilla kept telling her she didn’t have to worry, because if something _very bad_ had happened to Gilbert, the authorities in the Bay would have sent a letter to his family, and Bash would have certainly informed them. Still, Anne felt restless. Instead of becoming sadder, as everyone expected, she became angrier and susceptible to anything; she felt like anyone who wasn’t willing to help her getting more information about Gilbert was being selfish and careless, even when it wasn’t true. She spent nights writing not just to him, but to officers and lieutenants whom she knew worked with him, asking information regarding the general circumstances, but no answers came again. Dark circles were constantly there, under her eyes, but she had stopped carying about her appearance way back before. She had one aim, one goal, and it was to _know._ To her, unknowledge was worst than awareness, even if it meant getting to know something bad. The only thing keeping her up was hope, and she hanged onto it _so_ tigthtly, so desperately, so pleadingly, as if she was tied to the thread of Atropos, the goddess of faith and destiny, which held a major power on people’s lives, and she could have cut the string which held Anne’s life in any moment.

Summer days went on and on, and she didn’t even feel them. When the night came, the symphony that nature offered her around Green Gables wasn’t a comfort anymore. She despised silence, because it meant dealing with her own self and her thoughts, and they were so messy and so lost, just like she was. She cried herself to sleep many times, when she wasn’t too exhausted from running through Avonlea and Charlottetown to get news about Gilbert. She often spent entire days with three-year-old Delphine, when Bash had errands to run or when she needed the innocence of a small, bright life like Delly was. Spending time with her made her stop thinking about everything for a while, if not about keeping the child safe and making her food. Only a few times did Delphine babble things about uncle Gilbert – like meals he prepared, or games he played with her – and Anne could swear she had to put all the strength she had not to burst crying in front of the kid.

“Aunt Anne, your eyes have sparkles” Delphine once said, after mentioning that time when Gilbert had brought her a big red apple the size of her face. Anne immediately turned her back to the child, going back to the soup she was preparing. “I want sparkles too” Delly added then.

“Eyes sparkle when we are happy and joyful, when we feel deep emotions, or when we are a bit sad. I only want you eyes to sparkle for happiness, Delly” Anne replied softly, kneeling in front of the kid and offering her a close-lip smile.

“But you don’t look happy” the child answered. “I’m not _totally_ happy too. I miss uncle Gilbert. Do you miss him too?”

A tear fell on Anne’s cheek, out of control, and she internally kicked her stupid feelings for being so… _there_.

“I do, a lot. But he’ll be here soon, alright? And he certainly doesn’t want us to be sad because of him, right?”

Delphine smiled widely. “Right! I will _pray_ for him to come back tomorrow!” she exclaimed, and before Anne could tell her anything, the little girl ran away. Anne sighed, wishing she could have Delphine’s mind too, for a while. Imagination had never been her missing spot, but she could hardly imagine anything good now.

But eight months and fourteen days passed. Time seems infinite, immesurable, eternal, when spent without the person you love. A perpetual pang in your stomach, a dark emptiness around your heart, as if it becomes untouchable. But time goes on, that’s the dowside and the beauty of it. It’s a stream, and it can bring so much pain, but so much life as well, so much precious moments which, when lived, make every single drop of sorrow worth.

It was the beginning of September, when the last rays of sun are still shining warmly through the leaves, but a gentle breeze starts making its way too, announcing the end of the summer days. Those summer days which had been a heartache for Anne. No letters had arrived anymore, no one had answered her questions, no one had solved her doubts or appeased her fears. She was torn between the last glimpse of hope and the most stinging worry. Marilla insisted she went back to Queen’s in time when Anne suggested she may have waited a bit more, not sure if studying could have truly helped her. But her adoptive mother hugged her, saying that _no, Anne, you need to keep your mind occupied_ _and your brain healthy. I will let you know if anything happens._ So she had reluctantly agreed, and there she was now, her hands gripping onto her dark green velvet dress as she looked around her Queen’s bedroom, as Diana tried to bring the topic on a book she had read recently, as she brushed her dark hair and styled them with her lovely blue ribbon. Anne listened to her words, don’t misunderstand: she was so glad to have her best friend by her side for another year, the last year before they finished Queen’s. But she couldn’t help feeling a deep nervousness crawling up her insides, as if there was something odd in the air.

“Don’t you think it’s a weird day?” she unconsciously said, before realising she had asked that question to a confused Diana.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I don’t know, there’s something wrong. I can’t quite grasp it, I just-I don’t know how to explain it” she answered, narrowing her brows as if it could help her focus more on what she was feeling. Diana just sighed, sitting next to Anne her on her bed and taking her hand.

“Maybe you’re just missing him?” she quietly murmured, but Anne shaked her head vigorously.

“No…I mean, I do miss him, I infinitely do. But…” she tried to explain, but words couldn’t even come out. _She_ didn’t even know what she was feeling, what she _wanted_ to feel. She had expected to be so hopeless on such a day, so lost, and maybe she was. But she felt something inside her telling her that she should have just waited and waited and waited, as she had done for the past months. Was it longing pushing her? Was it pure, simple hope?

“I’ll go see if the zinnias we planted last year are still alive. See you later?” Anne said, getting up and straightening her dress. Diana nodded confusedly, saying she would have waited for her with the other girls for dinner time. The lessons would have started the following day, so they still had a bit of time to enjoy the amber light of the sunset, when the sky becomes a canvas of honey and lavender and blue immensity.

Anne walked through the blooming garden of the school, careful not to ruin the [dress](https://pin.it/57LqBT2) Marilla had bought for her that exact summer, until she reached a lovely spot under a willow. There, an explosion of colours welcomed her, making her smile earnestly. She had planted those zinnias with Diana, Ruby and Cole the previous year: it had been her idea to do so, since she had found out that zinnias meant remembering someone who was no longer there. She had planted one for Matthew, two for Bertha and Walter Shirley, one for Mary and two for Gilbert’s parents; then, she had invited her friends to do the same, it all resulting in a bouquet of bright reds, lilacs, pinks and yellows, which – as Anne could ascertain – had bloomed even more, showered each day by the most shining sun. Before the summer holidays had begun, she had gone there again to plant one zinnia for Gilbert too, an orange one.

She now kneeled down in front of the flowers, her fingers brushing on their petals, and she found peace in them. They had bloomed, nonetheless. Despite everything. As she admired them, she noticed the orange zinnia had fallen down, detached from its stem; she took it into her hands, trying to understand the cause of that. Its petals were still bright, so it must have fallen recently. Her heart couldn’t help but start beating faster: anyone who knew Anne knew that she was the smartest when she wanted, but also the first one to believe any superstitious sign; and what was clearer than a flower planted for a loved one falling down without an apparent reason? A part of her didn’t want to believe she was being so childish, but she truly couldn’t help tears falling down.

It was only when she heard laughters and squeaks from the building behind her that she turned around, still keeping the flower protected into her hold. Before she could understand what was happening, she saw the tiniest little girl she knew running towards her; Delphine was ecsastic, even more than she was when she opened presents.

“Auntie Anne! Uncle _Gillbet_ is back!”

It took four words spoken by a child to turn her whole existence upside down in a matter of seconds.

Delphine reached Anne and jumped up and down in front of her, holding her hand and leading her ahead, but she didn’t have to make more than a couple of steps before she recognised Bash and, right next to him, Gilbert. Gilbert in his clothes, in his flesh, not a trick of her imagination. The Gilbert she had argued with so many times, the one she had often competed with. The Gilbert she had shared afternoons with, and days, and sunsets; the one who had made her soup after Matthew’s funeral, despite his usual inability to make a decent meal. The Gilbert who had held her hand without a reason while she read out loud for him, the one whose passion for medicine was unique.

The Gilbert she undeniably, completely, unequivocally loved.

He was slightly taller, but his eyes were just as bright and his smile was totally _his._

“Delly, come here for a moment” Bash said, a teasing but joyful smile on his face. Delphine ran towards Gilbert, and he raised her up quickly, hugging her playfully, before letting her leave with Bash. He was left with the most incredible flower in front of him, he could barely notice the variety of _actual_ plants around them. Anne stood still, completely frozen in her place. She had to pinch her wrist probably a thousand times that day.

In his eyes, she looked a bit tired and paler, freckles standing out even more, like little stars. Nonetheless, he found her _heavenly._ His heart was about to burst with fullness as he saw her face, completely shocked but quickly getting a delightful pink shade, and the tears in her eyes were not for sufference anymore.

“So…How are the zinnias doing?” he managed to say, a knowing smile on his face contrasting adorably with his glassy eyes, before she ran towards him murmuring the most lovely _shut up_ he had ever heard. He took her into his arms and he couldn’t feel the Earth under his feet anymore. He could only feel her presence, her scent and her silent sobs. He slightly raised her from the ground, determined not to let her go, not even if the whole world ended in that moment. Anne’s hands went from his back to his neck and between his hair, which had grown a bit, as to certify that he was really there, alive and safe. He came back to her.

“I was so scared, I thought…I didn’t want to believe it, but you-and they never received my-and I was going insane, Gilbert” she cried into his shoulder, tears flowing freely like they hadn’t done in months. When she cried after getting used to his absence, she usually didn’t make a sound: tears streamed quietly, almost imperceptibly, and she let them go, but it wasn’t of any help. Now, though, she _wanted_ that pain to leave forever, because he was there into her arms.

“I know, my love, I know” he whispered into her hair, crying as well. It was a moment of catharsis, complete purification for the both of them. “I am here now, though. We met again, eventually.”

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, days, years, before they had the strength to look into each other’s eyes and _finally_ letting their lips meet too, lips which had been left eight months before with a painful goodbye, and that were now filled up again with each other. Gilbert knew he didn’t need anything more than that, and Anne knew that the feeling which had spread into her just some moments before, when she was with Diana, was linked to him. As everything was.

Their lips didn’t part until they had to breath in, until they both felt wonderfully dizzy. He cupped her cheek with one hand, as the other was on her waist, and he believed he was holding the most fragile, precious but unbreakable jewel. She pecked his chin, jaw and lips a bunch of time, before showing him her most sincere smile, the one he had dreamed of in the few hours of sleep he had, and which kept him alive for all those months.

“Dad, let me go! I want to see Gil again!” a pitched voice yelled behind them, and there was Delphine again, and a helpless Sebastian trying to prevent her from ruining what he knew was an immaculate moment. Gilbert turned around, still holding Anne close, and they both laughed at the scene. He then looked at her, quickly kissing her forehead before speaking.

“I believe we must save Bash from that little firework, right?” he joked, and Anne chuckled back, walking with him towards the child.

She was sure she was floating.

The following hours were a complete rush, but _oh_ how she was loving each moment of it. Gilbert told her that he would have stayed with Bash for one whole month before going back to the University of Toronto, and her heart clenched because she certainly didn’t want him to be in Avonlea while she was in Charlottetown. He reassured her, telling her that he would have visited her everyday, but she still insisted and asked Mrs Drewens, the Queen’s Principal, for a delay in the beginning of her courses. Mrs Drewens was known to be a strict woman, unmovable when it came to respecting rules and schedules, but Anne and the Queen’s students perfectly knew she had a heart of gold. She had found a special spark in Anne, but she never made preferences between students; however, when Anne explained the reasons why she wanted to begin her classes a week later compared to the others, her cheeks finally coloured and her eyes full of energy, as she seemed totally absorbed in finding the best way to convince her, Mrs Blackmore already knew the answer she would have given.

“I am perfectly aware of the fact that I’ll be behind with the program, but I can be very determined, and I’m willing to spend my _nights_ on books if that could give me the chance of beginning later. I promise it’s for a valid reason, and you know me, Mrs Drewens, I cannot focus on anything when my head is somewhere else, and I haven’t seen my- I haven’t seen Gilbert in _ages_. I know it may sound childish, but-”

“Miss Shirley-Cuthbert. I have the solid belief my head might explode from one moment to another, so please…sit down” the woman said, still with a slight smirk on her face. Anne nodded and did as told, looking at her like a child looks at a candy after weeks of bitter medicine.

“I don’t like to change plans. I’ve often received many request of beginning the lessons with a delay, and my students always regretted their choice. I hardly allow this, especially on the first week, when teachers revise the old topics and introduce new ones. So, my answer would usually be a no” Mrs Drewens said, intertwining her hands on the desk. Anne’s disappointment could be seen from miles of distance, but she still politely got up and said her goodbye.

“Miss Shirley-Cuthbert, I wasn’t done” the principal said, and Anne immediately sat down again. “I would _usually_ say no. However, it seems to me that your…excellent grades could easily allow you to skip a week without having any sort of problem. I’m sure Miss Barry would be pleased to help you catch up with the classes once you are back. And” Mrs Drewens paused for a moment, before kindly showing a sincere smile, “I know how hard it is when people you love leave for a long time. My son, Alexander, works as a soldier. He came back two weeks ago after two years, and seeing him again is always an unspeakable experience. All of this to say that, Anne, I’ll see you again at the beginning of the next week” she concluded.

Anne stood still for a moment, before practically throwing herself towards Mrs Drewens to shake hands, even though she could have easily hugged her right there.

“Thank you _so much_ , Mrs Drewens, you have no idea of how grateful I am. I truly hope you will always be able to have your son by your side. You are truly an amazing woman. For real, you-”

“Now go before I change my mind” the woman said interrupting her, and when Anne nodded with the widest smile on her face and left, she knew she had done the right choice.

That’s how Anne found herself on the train for Avonlea before she knew it. When they arrived at Bright River, Anne and Gilbert headed to Green Gables first, to let Marilla know about the events of that day. Everyone knew how much that woman deserved some rest, after months of handling a desperate Anne and all the consequences of it, apart from her own worry for Gilbert, whom she truly cared about as he was her own son. So, when she saw him walking hand in hand with Anne towards Green Gables holding Anne’s hand, as she was having tea with Rachel, she felt like she was about to cry her relief out.

“Oh my” she said, opening the front door for them – all of this under Rachel Lynde’s incredulous eyes – and she immediately hugged Gilbert. “Dear my, this feels exactly like a miracle!”

“It’s a true pleasure to see you, Miss Cuthbert. I hope you’re doing well, and er…I’m sorry I stole Anne from her duties for a little while” Gilbert replied, scratching his head. Marilla shook her head, smiling warmly and leading them inside the house, where they spent the following hour – and yes, believe it or not, Rachel Lynde stayed silent the entire time, unable to turn Gilbert’s return or his _suspicious_ closeness to Anne into a rumour of any kind. Not everything was made to be spread, some thing were purer if kept between a few people.

However, that night Anne didn’t stay alone in her beloved Green Gables. Bash had insisted Gilbert spent some alone time with his _special one_ that night.

“You have a whole month to spend in the same house as me, Blythe. But you have your girl all for yourself for just a week. You should take the chance, _yeah_?” Bash had suggested, smiling knowingly at his brother, before patting his back and forcing Delly to let _her_ _Gil_ go for that evening. So, after a fulfilling dinner – Gilbert ate everything which was offered to him, even cabbage, which he used to dislike, claiming that he hadn’t eaten properly in _ages_ – they wished Marilla a good night, with the promise of coming back within the night and to sleep in different beds – needless to say both Anne and Gilbert became as red as sweet apples.

They walked in the September breeze for a while, between silence and a bit of small talk, hands brushing every now and then. Soon, they reached a small portion of grass not far from Green Gables, where baby breaths and a bunch of tulips shined like drops of oil paint on the field in front of them. They sat there, under the blue sky – still not completely dark, it must have been around eight in the evening. There was just one star in the sky, but to them it felt like they were into a rainfall of meteors. Gilbert laid down on the grass, face looking up towards the immensity, as if he were seeing it for the first time. Anne laid on her side next to him, supporting her head with her hand, while the other one came to rest on his chest, and he didn’t hesitate in intertwining his fingers with hers.

“How are you feeling?” she softly asked, staring at his expression of amaze as he looked up.

“Alive” he immediately answered, before turning to her. She smiled, her thumb moving up and down the back of his hand.

“Me too” she whispered, and he looked at her with such tenderness she felt like she was melting like strawberry ice cream under the July sun. “You have been so brave, you know?” she added, and he breathed in, his eyes slowly becoming glassy.

“I don’t think so. Sometimes it got…insane, Anne. _Insane_. Injured people kept being brought into the tent where I was, and some of them were in terrible conditions” he then paused for a moment, before tightening his grip on her hand a bit. “Many of them died. I saw them, tried to do what I could, but sometimes it wasn’t enough. Seeing all of that, and the guilt you feel, and everything else was so…overwhelming. I felt like I was going crazy sometimes, when I was so tired but I could barely sleep.”

Anne felt her heart twist, and she _so_ wished she could take his pain, take away from his eyes all he had seen, from his mind all the dark memories he had. She shifted closer to him, hoping her warmth could bring him some relief, some comfort. He understood her intentions, and brushed his free hand on her cheek.

“After the fifth month, we weren’t allowed to write to anyone anymore. They told us it was dangerous, since our positions may have been pinpointed. I’m sorry I made you worry, I _desperately_ needed your words too” he said, remembering the nights spent awake, when only her letters were able to fight back the demons claiming their place in his mind.

“I felt you hadn’t left me. I hanged onto that hope _so much_ ” Anne replied, her voice breaking. “I didn’t want to believe you were gone. I couldn’t” she quietly cried, and he circled her with his arm, hardly able to avoid tears too. He then sat up for a second to take something from is trousers’ pocket, careful not to hurt her in the process, and when he laid down again, welcoming her in the crook of his neck, he was holding something in his hand. Anne had to raise herself a little to distinguish what it was, since the sky was getting darker. When it was clear, she chuckled, still wiping away a couple of tears from her face.

“You took it with you” she said. Gilbert was holding the black and white photograph she had given him on the day he told her he had to leave. When he turned it between his fingers, revealing the back of the photo, she smiled.

_My forever_

_-A_

This was what was written on it, in her best calligraphy.

“I wrote it the day before you left. You were packing everything and I noticed the photograph on your bed, so I thought I could leave you a message. For when you missed home” Anne explained, her lips curved into a gracious smile. Gilbert stared at her right into her big blue eyes, absorbing her presence like divine nectar.

“It’s the only thing that kept me going. When I felt like it got too hard, I saw this photograph and I saw you and your words. And I knew everything was worth it, to come back to you, Anne” he said, and Anne could feel his heart beating steadily and rhythmically under her hand, and she knew what he meant.

“My heart is yours, Gilbert Blythe” she murmured, her face close to his, as only inches were separating them.

“You always had mine” he replied, and unlike the one they shared when they first saw each other than afternoon, this kiss was slower, more careful, gentler. It was a sweet ‘hello’ whispered in the morning, and a tender good night before going to sleep; it was a promise and a hope of forever; it was as deep as the universe and as light as a laughter. It was the regrets of the past and it was a ring in her finger with the word _engagement_ being finally completed. It was Anne and it was Gilbert and it was everything in between. 

And when Marilla found them on Anne’s bed the next morning, still fully dressed and lost in their much needed sleep, Gilbert’s arm around her figure and her body curled up close to him, even _she_ didn’t have the courage to do or say anything. In that boy’s eyes, she could see her past love, a broken one, but still the most precious memory she had. And if she hadn’t had the chance of fulfilling it, she wouldn’t have stopped Anne from getting hers.

She could see how much those two cared about each other, how they weren’t each other’s half, but two _whole_ people tied together with the undeniable, overwhelming, fulfilling, slightly troubled, but always sensational, sincere and genuine force of pure _love_.

 _“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”_  
 **― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves**

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! Hope you enjoyed this story. I made myself sad as I wrote it - I also have the habit of listening to piano music as I write, which made everything ten times more emotional! So, little disclaimer: I completely made up Gebson Bay, it doesn't actually exist; also, I don't mean to underestimate the tragedy of war in any way, the opposite actually. This story not only focuses on our favorite sweeties aka Anne and Gilbert, but also wants to send a message of hope and love. Please do not hesitate to tell me if you think I wasn't delicate enough in doing so - I'll certainly put all the trigger warnings for sure!  
> So...let me know your thoughts!  
> Lots of love <3


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